Celeste stared at Amara as she stared at her screen. From where she sat on the couch, she could already read the message on Amara's phone.
The message had come fifteen minutes ago.
Neither of them had spoken since.
Amara hadn't moved. Not once. Her face turned gray when she saw the message but she wouldn't admit it.
Her elbow rested against the armrest of the couch, phone in hand, with her thumb hovering just above the message. The light from the screen hit her face softly, outlining the sharpness of her cheekbones and the calm curve of her mouth.
Her black hair framed her face, and her soft cupid bow lips.
To anyone else, she'd look utterly unaffected.
But Celeste knew her too well.
She could see the stillness. It meant Amara was thinking too deeply at the moment.
Celeste leaned forward, snatched the remote, and turned off the TV. The silence deepened immediately.
